A/N - In which Abel wins his first boxing match, and Cain is a douche. Also, Bering and Cook minus pants. Yeah I totally just went there, again. You can't un-see that now. I lured you into my disgusting, disgusting trap. Have fun with that mental imagery ;) but not too much fun. I'm going to sleep now. Then I'm going to go and work the two jobs and wish both companies would spontaneously combust.
Cain POV – 10 years on earth
I should never have come in here. Just went into his office to see if my watch was there before we went off to meet Keeler and Encke and all of Abel's other stupid friends, and on his desk at the very top of the pile there it was, dotted little yellow 'sign here' tabs noting where I should just punch myself in the gut.
Divorce papers. Fuck. And I thought it was all going okay. Guess this is his birthday present to himself.
"Cain hurry up, we have to g... what are you doing?"
Abel stood halfway through the doorway of his office, confused. Then looks down to the stupid sheets with their stupid little tabs in my stupid fucking hands. Takes a few moments before comprehension dawned and his face pales. Abel opens his mouth to speak, but it just hangs there empty and stupid before he snaps it back shut again.
"Those... aren't mine"
Always was a terrible liar.
"Oh really, princess?"
I hold up the papers, type facing Abel and start forward.
"They're not yours, huh?"
Abel starts backing away until he hits the wall and stays there frozen like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide until we're nose to nose and I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. Lean forwards to whisper in his ear:
"So why is your signature on it?"
Abel shudders. Guilty as charged.
I want to bite his scar back open, mark his stupid lying whore mouth so everyone knows what a little prick he is, but I'm so angry I think if I tried I might end up tearing his face off, so instead I grab the front of his shirt and hold him a little off the ground until he starts to really struggle and manages to shove his way out of my grasp, dodging my lunges and scrambles away from me. Doesn't get far before he trips on the carpet and I'm there to catch him except this time, I don't help him back up. Just grab him by the shoulders, squeezing too hard and not giving a damn, relishing in the pain on his face.
It's not until he starts tearing up and stops struggling that I realise it's not pain at all. It's fear. He's fucking terrified. I've never seen Abel look this scared, not the first time he shot a Colteron in the face on shore leave and he spent the entire night throwing up, not the first time he got up and fell back down again and didn't stop falling since, not when they told him he would never be normal again. Not that first time. Just kept his stupid defiant, prissy little face on like it didn't matter he was all fucked up in the head, didn't matter he was throwing up more food than he'd eaten, didn't matter that he just got fucked by a total stranger, didn't matter at all. But now there's nothing but fear and I wonder if he's been looking like that the entire time and I've just been too, too... better liar than I thought.
Suddenly I'm disgusted with him. Need him to get off me, need to wash his smell off me and his touch because it's making my skin crawl. I let go of him and he looks relieved, and I'm just so fucking angry I can't help it, push him backwards onto the couch and Abel huffs in surprise as he hits the pillows.
Fine. Whatever. I don't care. Have it your way, never anything but a good for nothing whiny little slut. See if I ever care about you again. Not my fault he's scared of everything.
"Move it, we're going to be late."
Divorce. Tch. Not if I do it first.
Only when I'm halfway to the door that I notice Abel isn't.
"Fuck, what now-"
Still sitting on the couch, face pale, eyes squeezed shut, his breathing all funny and too loud even from halfway across the room.
This isn't supposed to happen when he's only sitting down.
"Abel, fuck It was just a shove princess, stop with the theatrics."
Walk over to grab his shoulder and shake him out of it, but stop mid-step when I realise that it's not just laboured, now he's gaspingfor air, rasping trying to get some, eyes wide open and darting around the room like he can't actually see anything just like that fucking dream with Praxis all over again. If I thought he looked scared before then it's nothing compared to this. Curling into himself like a snails shell, trying to protect what's inside but too fucking easy to step on and shatter.
"Abel!?"
This isn't supposed to happen when he's only sitting down. This isn't supposed to happen at all. It was just a fucking dream. True he was getting worse, but not this, nothing like this. And all the anger turns to panic, just as consuming but a thousand times worse because there is nothing, nothing I can do to stop this.
"What the fuck is wrong with you! Snap out of it, shit, stop stop-"
And just as suddenly as it started it stops. His breathing loses it's rattle and goes back to easy whistling and Abel slumps over so fucking relieved it's almost painful to look at.
"The fuck was that?!"
He doesn't respond, just keeps his eyes shut and keeps breathing slowly, in, out, face white and shaking.
"I'm calling the doctor"
"Don't, it's nothing-"
"Like hell it is!"
"Why do you care?"
Round one: Abel. Ouch. Fuck.
"Just leave it okay? I'm fine, it's happened before..."
Abel stops mid sentence, looking worried like he's let something slip up and I flinch back because the words are worse than a slap.Like this is normal.
Round two: Abel.
"What? What the fuck does that mean? It's happened before? Where the hell was I?"
"Really, it's nothing, just forget about it. We're going to be late-"
He moves to get up but I shove him back down on the couch. Grab his hair until he looks me in the eyes, and there's guilt written all over his face like a kids first time drawing on the walls. Messy, unreadable, a fucking ugly scrawl of dizzyingly inhuman shapes with wonky drugged out smiles.
"Cain, ow, let go-"
"You're going to fucking spill, or I'm going to fuck it out of you and you don't want that."
Closes his eyes again, like if he can't see me then he doesn't have to speak, even blushes a bit. Should have known that wasn't a good threat for someone as slutty as Abel, even if his hair is going white.
"Five"
What? Five what?
Abel just fidgets with his sleeves, head down. Talks to the underside of his eyelids.
"Years. Five years."
I just glare.
"I'm forty now, so. So. That's what they said. So it's five now."
His voice drops in volume. Keep glaring.
"So. So, you know. That's. So, that's old. So I've got five years to... y'know. Live."
Round three: Abel holds down his contestant for 1...
If I just keep glaring this will all turn out to be a dream, just like Praxis again, not real.
"Approximately. Probably less. They don't know for sure."
4...5...
Just keep glaring and this will all melt away.
"I didn't want to trap you. The divorce papers..."
Fucking stubborn no-melt fake reality.
"So..."
Abel looks up then, completely miserable. Don't cry. Don't fucking cry. If you cry, then you'll have to explain to Abel why you woke up all fucking teary and that'll just make this realer than it is, and I'd rather die than be the girl. Leave the crying to Abel. Nothing but a stupid navigator with too many feelings.
"It doesn't matter. J- just forget about it for now. We're going to be late."
Abel gets up and this time I don't stop him.
And 10. Abel wins. You have to be gentle, princess.
Just a dream. Wake up wake up wake up wake up you have to wake up now.
"...or maybe it's better if you stay here. I'll just, I dunno, I'll tell them you're sick or something."
Just a dream, it's just a dream. So why aren't I waking up?